He should have thrown her out.
But when club owner Alexander Lavoie catches a mysterious blonde counting cards
at his vingt-et-un table, he's more intrigued than angry. He has to see more of
this beauty-in his club, in his office, in his bed. But first he'll have to
devise a proposition she can't turn down.

Gossip said he was an assassin.
Common sense told her to stay away. But Angelique Archer was desperate, and
Lavoie's club offered a surefire way to make quick money-until she got caught.
Instead of throwing her out though, the devil offers her a deal: come work for
him. Refusing him means facing starvation, but with a man so sinfully handsome
and fiercely protective, keeping things professional might prove impossible . .
.

“A job?” Angelique was aware she was repeating him like a half-wit,
but she couldn’t seem to wrap her head around the last minute of conversation.

“Yes.” Lavoie leaned forward
slightly.

“Ladies don’t have jobs.” Angelique tried to put some conviction
into that statement, knowing it was what she was supposed to say. Such
knowledge had been drilled into her since she was old enough to walk. Ladies
grew up and married well and became wives who lived out their lives in genteel
comfort. They did not partake in industry. Or gambling.

At least they didn’t until they did not marry at all, much less
well, and their parents died, their family fortune went missing, and their
newly titled brother couldn’t stay sober long enough to look for it. Then
ladies did what they had to do to hold their families together.

She glanced up at him, but her sharp reply, like everything else,
had only seemed to amuse him.

“A strange thing to say for a lady who already treats my vingt-et-un
table as her personal place of business.”Lavoie’s lip had curled, his scar
making it look more like a smirk than a smile.

She looked away, despising the truth in his assessment. “I do no
such thing. Ladies don’t have jobs,” she repeated, though it was a pitiable
attempt at her defense.

“Ladies don’t have jobs that people know about,” he countered.

“What? What does that mean?” Angelique’s eyes snapped back to his.

Lavoie moved out from behind his desk and leaned back against the
front of it. He crossed his booted feet casually, never taking his eyes off
her. “It means, my lady, that once you stop pretending to be aghast, and you
understand that I offer the potential to earn more money in a single night than
you will earn in three at the card tables, you might wish to reconsider. I wish
you to deal a high-stakes vingt-et-un table that can accommodate at least six
players who will be playing against the house and not each other. Who will be
playing against you.”

Angelique was at a loss for words.

“I don’t need to have your answer now,” he said, tipping his head.
“You know where to find me. I will pay you for your time, of course, and you
will also receive a percentage of whatever you—my club—wins. I promise that
your identity will remain concealed. And unlike the men you have had to endure
thus far at the tables, I promise that I won’t touch your breasts. And anyone
else in my club who might attempt to do so in the future will answer to me.”

She felt her face heat all over again, even as another hail of unwanted
thrills crackled through her like a summer storm.

“Tell me you’ll think about it,” Lavoie prompted.

“Very well.” The shock was wearing off, and Angelique was trying
her best to collect her scattered thoughts. She’d be an idiot to deny him
outright. She didn’t trust him entirely, but her current situation didn’t leave
her many choices. And she couldn’t deny that his offer, like the man himself,
was more than a little…intriguing. Exciting. Fascinating.

Lavoie pushed himself off the desk, coming to stand directly in
front of her. His eyes skimmed over her hair, her mask, her gown, as if he was
evaluating—admiring—what he saw. “With a mind such as yours, I think you would
be brilliant,” he murmured. “I think that you and I would make splendid
partners.”

Kelly Bowen grew up in Manitoba, Canada. She attended
the University of Manitoba and earned a Master of Science degree in veterinary
physiology and endocrinology. But it was Kelly's infatuation with history
and a weakness for a good love story that led her down the path of historical
romance. When she is not writing, she seizes every opportunity to explore
ruins and battlefields.

Currently, Kelly lives in Winnipeg with her husband and two boys, all of whom
are wonderfully patient with the writing process. Except, that is, when
they need a goalie for street hockey.